


Dirty Wings

by Shinytalent



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Wing Kink, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 17:22:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16391966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shinytalent/pseuds/Shinytalent
Summary: Just another wing!kink fic





	Dirty Wings

**Author's Note:**

> A friend started playing an Aasimar in DnD, and I love Destiel, so naturally I got thinking about wings...  
> A shout out to everyone in a Destiel FB group that I belong to for being awesome and encouraging and answering my questions, while I'm not a newbie, I do get lost in my own neuroses some days.  
> Please be kind, I haven't posted anything in a very long time so I am more than a little rusty.

Dean hears the crash in the garage and naturally, his first thought is for Baby. It isn't Baby that he finds however, it's Castiel. Cas looks like he has an itchy shoulder blade and he can't reach it. Dean takes a moment to watch the dorky Angel as he flails.  
Cas sheds his trench coat and starts pulling at his tie before Dean awkwardly clears his throat.   
“Need a hand Cas?”   
There's the 'I'm going to smite you' look that Dean missed while he was a meat suit for Michael.   
“No. Thank you, Dean, I can't ask for your assistance in this matter.”   
Dean frowns, he had hoped that out of everyone, Castiel would be the last person keeping him at arm's length because of the whole Michael Incident (and yes that was what Dean was calling it) but it looks like even Castiel needed time to forgive him.   
With a sigh Dean goes to leave “Just, whatever you're doing, don't involve Baby, she's too classy for whatever this is.”   
“Wait, Dean,” Cas calls the hunter back “I have an issue. Gabriel said he would help me when we both returned and well...” The Angel trails off because they both know how that sentence ends and neither of them needs to finish it.  
“Well Cas, what can I do you for?” Dean is rewarded with that squinty head tilt thing that Cas does and is well prepared for the tiny flip that his stomach does in response.   
“My wings.” Does Cas look embarrassed?   
“What about your wings Cas?”

Dean listens quietly as Cas explains that his wings need grooming. That their condition is beginning to cause Cas physical pain. “Sure I'll help you, buddy, when Sam broke his arm in sixth grade I helped him shower for a month.” Dean doesn't think anything of it, well that's not true. Dean remembers the glimpses he has caught over the years of Castiel's wings, and he swallows around the lump lodged in his throat.  
“Dean, you don't understand. Humans cannot normally be in the presence of our wings. I would have to manifest us on another plane. The same plane that my wings reside on.”   
With an exhaled breath Dean finds himself nodding along “Okay, well get to zapping.” He feels oddly keyed up, like the anticipation before a big hunt.   
“This doesn't turn you off from helping me?” Castiel asks.   
“Phrasing.” Dean chuckles before noticing just how serious Castiel looks.   
“No Cas, it doesn't, offer still stands.” Castiel nods and with a deadly focus in his gaze he puts his hand on Dean's bicep and if Dean remembers a certain handprint being there he sure doesn't say anything.  
There's that familiar flash of blinding light, and the almost stomach emptying queasiness before Dean opens his eyes and finds himself staring into oceans... No those are just Cas' eyes staring back at him intently.

"I had to take us to a place that you could safely see my wings in the flesh."  
Dean thinks that he understands, he vaguely remembers the whole speech about being the size of a Chrysler building.   
"Alrighty then Cas, let's do it. Do I need gloves? Tools? Super soft leave in conditioner?" The angel doesn't seem to catch the joke, shaking his head slowly as he closes his eyes.  
"I must apologise, Dean, the state of them, I would rather you see them in their true state."   
The green-eyed hunter barely processes the words. Cas had turned away from him and rolled his shoulders, and as if watching that wasn't enough he is suddenly confronted with a face full of inky coloured feathers.  
The scent of petrichor fills the air, and yeah Dean knows that word. Maybe a certain hunter learnt that word while trying to google exactly what Cas' scent reminded him of, but he wouldn't go telling Sam he can use the internet for something that isn't porn related it might give his baby bro ideas.  
"Cas, why would you be sorry? These..." Dean trails off for a moment, lost in the way the feathers could be both impossibly black and impossibly blue all on the same feather of the same wing. "These are awesome."

He said awesome... Dean thinks his wings inspire awe. Castiel stomps on that little ember quickly before it can grow.  
"Yes, well, clearly you haven't seen an Arch Angel's..." Castiel trails off, he hadn't meant to bring up a painful reminder of Dean's time away.  
"I'm pretty sure even Arch douchebag himself doesn't have a pair as impressive as this," Dean adds what is supposed to be a completely platonic punch to the shoulder, it feels awkward.  
"So, how do I do this?" Dean is standing behind Castiel and watching as his friend's wings extend. Fuck it's intimidating, even on his nerdy angel best friend. "Well, first you have to remove any loose feathers, and adjust any that are going the wrong direction." Castiel brings his wings in so that the Hunter doesn't have to reach so high.   
Dean Winchester is used to working with his hands, he's been rebuilding cars since he was old enough to reach inside an engine. All his years of rough and tumble living have given him callused hands, and Castiel can practically count them on each hand. The angel had forgotten how sensitive his wings are, each feather touched causes him to bite his lip lest he makes a noise deemed 'inappropriate' by Dean. 

Finally, as Dean adjusts a feather right at the base of his left wing Castiel unconsciously responds, arching his spine toward the rough hands, who are trying their best to be gentle.  
Dean feels the motion of Cas arching toward him like some jungle cat as he realises he is leaning into his friend's wings. Because that's all he and Cas are, no matter Sam's teasing. Best friends sure, but that's all. Clearing his throat loudly Dean asks Cas what comes next.   
"Uh well next you have to," Castiel clears his throat "next you have to comb your fingers through each wing and dislodge any dirt. Don't be afraid to dig with your nails. It will help." 

Dean is performing as directed, trying not to pull too hard, everything seems to be going fine until a clump of mud or something was lodged deep in the right wing and when it's free he can't act as though he doesn't hear the angel's moan that causes Dean's toes to curl in his boots. "Dean." It's uncertain whether the name is a prayer or a curse Dean just chuckles "Don't stop having fun on my account." Castiel feels the words rumble in his ear rather than hears them as the scent of thunderstorms fills the space.   
"Uh Cas, are your wings crying?" Dean squints as some sort of oil starts coating the feathers, some even start trickling down between where Cas' shoulder blades were hidden by his wingspan.   
"Not... not crying." Castiel panics, he'd been worried about this. Dean was his friend, but he wasn't exactly open to expanding the boundaries of said friendship. "It's oil, it helps keep them healthy." Despite Castiel's concern, he can't help himself, a sigh escapes his lips as Dean runs a finger experimentally through the liquid.  
"Smells just like you Cas, I wonder if it tastes like you too?" Castiel turns his head quickly, in time to see Dean suck the finger into his mouth and watch as his tongue traces the tip.   
"You could always find out?" Cas' voice is barely a whisper, almost too scared to breathe, in case Dean refuses. Castiel has fought demons that moved slower than Dean did at that moment. In an instant from standing behind him to standing toe to toe and staring the archangel down.

The kiss isn't something that Dean can put into words, and not just because blood rushes south from his brain at an alarming rate, it's because describing this kiss would be like describing a tsunami, or a supernova. It's sliding tongues and wet heat. Dean's fingers twist in Cas' feathers rewarding him with delicious friction as the seraph rubs against him. Cas whines as he tries to unbuckle two belts at once, refusing help and instead of barking at Dean to keep his hands where they are. Dean rewards his angel with a firm tug at the base of his wings as Cas finally frees their hard lengths from the confines of briefs and boxers. Dean's gasping for air as he throws his head back lost in the sensation of slender fingers wrapped around his dick, chasing that tight grip.   
Sparks light the bright blue eyes locked on his as Dean suddenly gets a bright idea. The hand that previously pulled at Castiel's wings now squeezes the oil gland, and Cas hisses as Dean's head swims with the scent of spring storms he coats his hand with the slick oil.   
With his other hand stroking both wing and a lean muscled back, Dean uses the oiled up hand to wrap around both their dicks. He watches mesmerised as two slippery heads disappear into his fist only to reemerge moments later.

Cas can't take it much longer, he drinks Dean in through another heated kiss. This time there's teeth biting his lips, and sucking bruises down his neck.   
"Dean please, I can't" His fingers push bruises into the hunter's hips as Castiel tries desperately to bring Dean closer.   
"Just let go, baby, I got you."  
Dean stays true to his word. Dean keeps hold of Castiel through that white-hot orgasm, through that wash of afterglow, and later back in the Bunker Dean keeps hold of Castiel.   
In fact, Dean Winchester quietly decides to not let go, especially while Cas needed him.   
If his angel couldn't even keep his wings clean Dean would have to take it upon himself to make sure someone did.


End file.
